


Recompense

by Bocchan13



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi
Genre: HE, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, NSFW, Sad, Sad and Sweet, mature - Freeform, mentions of death/suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bocchan13/pseuds/Bocchan13
Summary: Side story to the main  story 1300-The Years I Searched For YouThe retellings of Lan Xichen who has now become a cultivator once more. Afflicted with three calamities, he meets Meng Yao who has been reincarnating for centuries...with his memories...Set in the same universe 15 years after the events of Chapter 37. The story of recompense to those they have wronged. Can they be happy?Main Story:https://archiveofourown.org/works/23923807
Relationships: Lan Xichen/MengYao, Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	1. The Broken God

Chapter one—The Broken God

Lan Xichen quickly moved away as a car swerved on the crosswalk. He had no choice but to let the mechanical monstrosity clamber and clunk past him. He internally sighed and tried to tuck his hair back and realized once again that his hair had been cut years ago.

Lan Xichen watched as the car drove away and calmly stepped on the crosswalk once again. He saw an elderly lady slowly walking on her walker and came to her aid. The elderly lady was about to protest when she saw the abnormally handsome man smiling gently down at her.

The man wore a cardigan, his meticulous black hair a large contrast to his jade-like skin. His yellow amber eyes a deep and darker color, like whiskey that spewed gentleness under his golden framed glasses. The elderly lady almost died on the spot.

Which god did she pray to have this man help her? A deep blush bloomed on her cheeks and she stammered as Lan Xichen kept escorting her across the crosswalk, ignoring the numerous stares around him.

He was very used to it. Unlike the coldness of his younger brother, Lan Xichen had smile lines and an approachable visage. This had caused many problems over the years. Since his cultivation had slowed down his age, he was at the pinnacle of the sexy era between 28-35 years old. With his stylish haircut, elegant clothing, Lan Xichen was a walking model.

Attempts to get him signed to a company while he was just out walking was numerous, it got to the point where Lan Xichen moved away to a more suburban and less populated area.

The gentle old lady clutched onto the man’s arm and chatted like he was her grandson. Lan Xichen patiently waited and listened, his attention riveted on her like she was describing the most wonderful things.

He gently helped her on a flight of stairs that her apartment was on, the destination a far detour to where he was supposed to go that day. But he kept the old lady company as she babbled. Finally, the old lady let him go and waved sorrowfully.

Lan Xichen waved goodbye and travelled the way he was supposed to go. He sighed lightly and smiled. He had spent yet another three hours escorting an old lady.

He would never do this with younger women because he had to respect boundaries, and in some way they kind of terrified him with how bold they became in the 1,000 years he was gone.

He sometimes wished he looked like Lan Wangji, who always looked cold and unapproachable, but he couldn’t help looking this way either.

Lan Xichen walked up a steep hill that overlooked the sleepy town. Since the day was overcast, the wind was cold and it just looked about to rain. He watched as the tall grass surrounding him danced and waved like old friends. He walked the familiar path before he finally managed to reach his destination. A small cemetery that only held a few dozen headstones. He passed by many until reaching a familiar headstone.

_Here lies Nie Ming,_

_Father and friend._

Lan Xichen patted the headstone and sat cross-legged in front of it. He took out some Emperor’s smile and poured two cups. Placing one on the pedestal, he raised his hand and cheered to the deep night.

“Nie Mingjue, it’s been a while. I’ve come back…”

.

.

.

He was no longer a God.

Lan Xichen had ascended to the Heavenly Plane and became one of the numerous Gods of Fortune. The Gods had a responsibility to observe and help the mortal plane, however could not personally come down in times of strife. It had happened before with disastrous results.

So, when he realized he was to stay in the Heavenly Plane, Lan Xichen decided to become a God of Fate. This did not anger him at first, for he saw what disruptions belief could cause. The faith in false idols had been a major part of the Mortal world’s history, and Lan Xichen wanted no part of it.

But then, when he had been on the Heavenly Plane for less than 100 years, the entire universe had trembled. The Heavenly Tribulations had formed, but instead of someone being struck…the lightning tribulations had combusted causing a large rift in between the Mortal and Heavenly Plane.

The reincarnation cycle that connected the two worlds had been jolted and changed.

The Gods were concerned at first, but as time went by and nothing bad had happened, they started to forget. But Lan Xichen could feel something very different. As a God of Fate, he and several other Gods of Fate used a mirror to stare at the Mortal World.

And Lan Xichen saw the familiar face of Wei Wuxian.

It was known that Wei Wuxian’s soul had scattered and his reincarnation would have taken more than a hundred years to form back again. It was impossible. It should have been over 10,000 years.

But he had reincarnated.

And he still kept reincarnating.

Lan Xichen as a God of Fate watched as each reincarnation, the soul would reconvene…and scatter after he had died once more.

The Heavenly tribulation that struck the reincarnation cycle…impacted this one soul.

It did not take Lan Xichen long to figure out who was supposed to ascend.

His little brother Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji who refused to ascend, causing the Heavenly Tribulation to strike the reincarnation cycle.

He didn’t know it, but he had made Wei Wuxian’s soul come back to life.

Lan Xichen watched and kept watching, looking for traces of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, hoping and praying that they would find each other.

But the calamitous clouds never left Wei Wuxian.

Even if he reincarnated, he was always subjected to a young death.

This was retribution. Lan Xichen was a young God, so he could not save Wei Ying from this destiny.

As each century passed, Lan Xichen watched as both Lan Wangi and Wei Wuxian lived their lives. But soon, Lan Xichen realized that each time Wei Wuxian reincarnated…the soul that converged grew smaller and smaller.

So he could no longer remember who he used to be. And also…this meant there would be a day where Wei Wuxian would not reincarnate anymore. His soul was going to disappear forever.

Lan Xichen knew he should not meddle. However…he couldn’t NOT help.

So he entered Lan Wangji’s dreams and asked him to ascend. If he ascended, he might have enough power to keep Wei Ying’s soul from disappearing. He warned him that this was his last life. He could see as Wei Xuanyu cultivated, taking more of his soul into his cultivation. What should have been another two reincarnations had been absorbed into this life’s cultivation.

It would prolong his life. Maybe even three or four hundred years, but it would be his last life.

If Nie Huaisang had not melted Wei Xuanyu’s core…he might have lived with Lan Wangji forever.

As Lan Xichen watched as the events unfolded, he realized that even though he was a God…he could not do anything. Why did he ascend then? He was upright and justice, and yet he couldn’t even help the people he was supposed to protect.

The decision to leave the Heavenly Plane was not to be taken lightly. He did not know the ramifications for leaving; only knowing that even as a God, the Mortal Plane would directly interfere with his godly powers. Since spiritual qi was not as abundant as in the Heavenly plane, certain restrictions were placed to any God that travelled between realms.

And then he knew why Gods did not go down from the Heavenly Plane.

There was a price for falling.

A loud reverberating sound boomed and echoed in the valley of Gusu Lan Sect. A wavelength of spiritual qi enveloped the entire region. Lan Xichen did not know that this explosion of spiritual qi would help Lan Wangji in subduing Nie Huaisang.

He landed next to the lotus pond in the botanical garden. His pristine white robes glowed in the moonlight, and his long hair flared and trailed down his back to the floor. His glowing body was like a beacon as spiritual qi curled into his body. He absorbed the familiar scents of nature, and smiled as the wind chilled his body.

He was back in the Mortal realm.

Lan Xichen walked slowly and could feel the presence of someone sitting quietly in the brush. Lan Xichen carefully pulled away the leaves and came face to face to Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen had met Wei Wuxian when he was a youngling in Gusu Lan Sect. He had always acknowledged the genius cultivator and wondered why his brother disliked him so much. But as time went by and he too grew older, did he realized that Lan Wangji was in love.

And when Lan Xichen was in the midst of the Siege of Burial Mound and saw his brother take Wei Wuxian with his bloody body, and fight with his clan, did he think that his brother was no longer the brother he knew.

Deep inside, Lan Xichen had blamed Wei Wuxian for making Lan Wangji suffer, but overtime came to understand the sad life of the Yiling Patriarch. And now here he was, kneeling next to the boy who was clutching his chest and his breathing slowing down.

Wei Wuxian was about to die.

And Lan Xichen decided in that very moment to give Lan Wangji something he should have done all of those years ago. Before he ascended, at the moment where he stood aside at Burial Mound and heard the cheering sounds of the cultivators announcing the death of the Yiling Patriarch.

He brushed a strand of hair from his face and looked as Wei Wuxian slowly opened his eyes and peered into the glowing beautiful face of an angel.

“Are you coming for me, death?”

“No.”

“Are you taking me away?”

“No,”

Lan Xichen brought his finger to Wei Wuxian’s forehead, a small glow lighting up the sky.

Lan Xichen smiled gently as he felt the spiritual powers in his body deplete and disappear. Freezing ice followed his veins as each spiritual root was broken, until it finally reached the epicenter of his vibrant golden core. Lan Xichen didn’t care about the pain, but kept the flow of qi enter Wei Wuxian.

This body could not be saved. But his soul could. Lan Xichen was breaking his god head, and soon after, he would become a mere mortal once more.

As he heard the beating of Wei Wuxian’s heart die, he closed his eyes in happiness.

“I just want you and Lan Wangji to have a long and beautiful life.”


	2. Meeting an old friend (Lan Xichen)

Chapter 2—Meeting an old friend (Lan Xichen)

by Bocchan

Lan Xichen sat down nimbly next to the grave, the smell of Emperor Smile sifting in the air. He took a small sip and heaved a heavy sigh. The air had turned colder as the sun set, and the wind picked up. His short hair tangled in the wind, and he laughed as the precarious cup on the graves pedestal sloshed like it was being drunk.

“Nie Mingjue, you know I wish that I had come down earlier. So I could spend more than a few years with you…”

Lan Xichen gave a small smile to the grave.

He had come down thirty eight years ago.

After ripping out his God head, he was in a coma for two years. Two years of blissful darkness. He was sentient, but his body needed time to become mortal again. He woke up when Lan Wangji found Wei Ying’s body. He had come as fast as he could and prevented Lan Wangji’s decision to end his life.

He made it in time, at least for that.

But after that, Lan Wangji disappeared.

Since Lan Xichen became a mortal once more, it would take him some time to cultivate once more. So like a child, he started at the very basics. But like any fallen god, it was taking longer than he could predict. With no soul grass or cultivation object to help speed up the process, after thirty five years, he had only reached the Refining stage.

His age had slowed down, and he could feel the spiritual qi around him.

He relied on Lan Jingyi and his cultivation school to promote his speed, and eventually he was able to summon a sword.

But that was it. It was as if the world would not let him take a step further, and Lan Xichen could understand it. The world was built up of equivalent exchange, and he exchanged his cultivation for someone else’s.

But he didn’t regret it.

Wei Ying’s soul reincarnated and met Lan Wangji fifteen years ago. And now they were deep in the mountains as married cultivation partners. They had come down for many events, and had just celebrated Jiang Cheng’s 70th birthday.

Lan Xichen had no qualms…except for one thing. Something he hasn’t told anyone since he descended to the mortal plane.

Lan Xichen looked at the three black moles on his wrists. In the orange glow of sunset, the moles were a stark contrast to his pale skin, an alarming black that were no bigger than pins.

These were Calamity Marks.

Lan Xichen had come down from Heaven, obtaining three calamities and a broken cultivation base. All this time he had been trying to cultivate in hopes that it would be strong enough to defend himself when a calamity occurred.

With luck, he could survive.

After thirty eight years…a calamity had not occurred yet. So, by biding his time Lan Xichen did whatever he could to survive.

Within this time he had met Nie Ming.

He had returned from overseas from Lan Jingyi’s cultivation school and stayed in A City. It had been a July summer, so he was strolling in the heat on his way to the park. However, after reaching the park, an old man was sitting in his usual spot.

Lan Xichen looked to see all of the other seats occupied and was about to leave when he heard the old man croak.

“You can come, I won’t bite.” Lan Xichen smiled and sat down nimbly next to the old man.

Upon further inspection, the old man looked to be in his late 70’s, his brown hair tinged with grey. His hands had old cuts and wounds, even one hand missing a knuckle on his marriage finger. His golden eyes told stories. Lan Xichen watched as the old man just sat on the bench.

“Hello, dear sir do you need anything?” The bench was in direct sunlight and wind picked up in the dry summer heat, so sweat dripped down the old man’s wrinkles. Lan Xichen took out a dark blue umbrella and extended it over the old man, creating a large shadow.

“Thank you,” The old man reached out his hand and looked at the familiar but unfamiliar face of an old friend. Lan Xichen’s eyes widened at the realization that the man was the reincarnation of Nie Mingjue.

“Nie Mingjue?”

Nie Mingjue, who had hidden the fact that he had started remembering his past life all those years ago, nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“It’s good to see you Lan Xichen.”

A wide smile lifted Lan Xichen’s face as he heard the familiar voice of his beloved friend.

“It’s good to see you too, Nie Mingjue.”

They talked until the sun went down, and met on the bench in the park for the next few years. They talked about the many experiences they had in the past, and the memories they had now. Lan Xichen found out that Nie Ming had married a wonderful woman who gave him a son. Sadly she had departed to the Yellow Springs a few years before.

Nie Mingjue boasted about his adult son, and showed pictures of his son who looked remarkably like him. He showed pictures of his son and grandchildren, a glowing smile on his face.

He told him of his experiences when he was a bodyguard. He had passably told him that he used to be in charge of a snarky model. Lan Xichen reveled in his friends memory, and wondered if he too could find someone to spend the remainder of his life with.

Lan Xichen silently looked down at the three moles on his wrist and had to shake that dream away. Until the Calamity Marks have gone, he would remain by himself. So he wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Nie Mingjue did not know what was troubling his old friend, but decided that when the time was right, Lan Xichen would tell him.

He never did. They spent three years of their time together, reminiscing and being happy in each other’s company.

Ultimately, time was not a happy friend, for soon Nie Mingjue suffered health complications.

“I think…this might be my last year here.”

They were in Nie Mingjue’s house, the snow covering the sidewalk and streets, completely snowing them in. Lan Xichen had just finished washing a load of laundry for Nie Mingjue since he couldn’t walk anymore without a wheelchair. He wiped his hands and patted Nie Mingjue’s hand.

“Nonsense, you’re still spry. Don’t let these dark thoughts pass.”

Nie Mingjue continued to look out the window, the snow coming down faster.

“I won’t see next year’s snow.” Lan Xichen closed his eyes and sat next to him. They watched out the window, their minds wandering.

“Please promise me, Lan Xichen.” He looked towards Nie Mingjue who stared at him with his piercing eyes. They had not dulled with age, but had gotten fiercer.

“When Nie Huaisang dies…please bury him next to me.”

Lan Xichen was speechless. The entirety of the years they had spent together, Nie Mingjue had not mentioned his brother once. And now, he asked this. Lan Xichen knew where Nie Huaisang was. He was still locked in the underground of Gusu Lan Sect, unable to escape.

Lan Xichen smiled and grabbed his friend’s wrinkled hands.

“I promise,”

Nie Mingjue smiled back,

“He did many wrong things…but he is my brother. And I failed to save him. The least I can do is let him by my side as we travel to the Yellow Springs.”

A tear slipped down Lan Xichen’s eyes as he felt the mortality of life was.

He used to be human too. But death was not inevitable to him like it was to Nie Mingjue. Lan Xichen had felt that life was too short, but Nie Mingjue must have felt it was long enough.

Lan Xichen cried that night, holding onto his friend’s hands.

Nie Mingjue was right.

He passed away in the spring of next year. He left a will to his son, who was thirty two. He left all of his properties and the ownerships to a sword and scabbard. The son who had a family of his own, cried bitterly when he thought that his father died without him by his side.

He met a young handsome man at the funeral who introduced himself as his father’s caretaker. His beautiful face and clean eyes held no doubt in the man’s eyes and he profusely thanked the man from the bottom of his heart that at least in his father’s final moments, he was not alone.

Lan Xichen smiled as he looked at the young man who looked so much like his friend. Even the sword eyebrows were the same. Lan Xichen consoled the grieving family, and elected to help in the funeral process.

After Nie Mingjue’s death, Lan Xichen was once again left alone. He roamed the world, just waiting for the calamities to occur. He debated what he should do, met many people, did many things, but the aching sense of loss still stayed with him.

Because of the three calamities, he couldn’t get close to people in case it affected them too. He kept his distance with people, made few acquaintances and just lived vicariously.

He didn’t realize that immortality was so sad. How did he do it before?

How did he spend hundreds of years with the Dao in order to ascend? The blurriness of his existence soon coincided.

So he came back to Gusu Lan, and now sat on the grave of his dearest friend.

Lan Xichen took another gulp of the Emperors Smile, a slight frown creasing his face from the sharp acerbic tang. His vision became blurry and he stumbled up from the ground. Night had come, and in the dimness, Lan Xichen staggered to and fro. He patted the tombstone, causing the cup to almost spill.

He quickly righted it in place and unceremoniously sloshed on the floor.

“Hey Nie Mingjue, you dink da cawamity would just…go hway?” There was no response to his slurred words. He pouted and like a child, took out his flute that he had stolen back from the museum.

He smacked his face on the mouthpiece causing his to wince in pain.

He righted himself in the position and placed his lips once again on the mouthpiece.

“Hwwweeeeeeettttt…” Lan Xichen wrinkled a brow and looked at the flute like it wasn’t his own.

He had forgotten in his drunken haze that the flute was in fact over a thousand years old, and had not been maintained for that long, collecting dust in the Gusu Lan Sect Tombs before becoming a mantel piece in the museum.

“Nie Mingjueeeee!!! It’s not woking!!!” He sloppily placed his lips over the mouthpiece and once again wheezed breath through the old instrument.

A sharp note came out, causing Lan Xichen to almost cry.

He kept playing shrill notes, as if he could make music if he just tried harder.

The night was woken up by his horrendous flute playing. Lan Xichen stumbled around Nie Mingjue’s grave, a weird dance around. If anyone had seen this, they would think he was trying to summon the dead.

Drunk Lan Xichen continued to do this for ten minutes before he got dizzy. He panted, holding onto Liebing and whined.

He took another deep breath ready to blow on it again, when he felt a small hand grasp his wrists.

“Hey asshole! Can’t you see some people are here respecting ancestors??”

Lan Xichen whirled his head around, but his blurred vision could not determine the man’s image. All he knew was that he smelled…very good. He turned his body around and came closer to the slight man. The grip on his wrist was not much, and he was almost a head taller than the man.

His bleary eyes tried to see the man’s face, but he was altogether too close, almost smashing his face on the others. They were eye to eye, causing the young man to pause; his alarming deep brown eyes stared in confusion and…fear.

“Lan Xichen?”

Lan Xichen heard a soft voice call his name, and also felt the man start trembling. Lan Xichen reached out his hand and brushed a finger on the man’s cheek. He felt his heart beating faster, the man’s smell becoming more intoxicating to him.

Lan Xichen stumbled until he was looming over the man. He dropped his head on the crook of the man’s neck, and inhaled the deep scent. A familiar scent that had still hadn’t registered in his mind yet.

The smell of fresh laundry and sunshine.

The young man became even stiffer and tried to get the man off him. But Lan Xichen was still much stronger than him. He held the trembling man in his embrace, still smelling that wonderful scent.

Mumbling, Lan Xichen finally registered the memory that this scent brought.

“Meng Yao…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be confusing, but it is 15 years after Chapter 37...So its 23 plus 15 years=38 years after Wei Ying's "death" and 15 years after Wei Ying and Lan Zhan reunite.   
> The ages now are:  
> Nie Mingjue: died age 78  
> Meng Yao: Reincarnated age 26  
> Jiang Cheng: Alive age 70  
> Lan Wangji & Wei Ying: Immortal  
> Lan Jingyi: Immortal  
> Lan Shizui & Jin Ling: cultivating (stopped aging at 25)  
> Shi-Je and Jin Zixuan: 73 and 75  
> Nie Huiasang: No longer cultivating


	3. Capital Punishment (Lan Xichen & Meng Yao)

Chapter three—Capital Punishment (Lan Xichen & Meng Yao)

by Bocchan

As drunk as he was, he still had the rationality of being as polite as he could be. When spurting out that name, he tried to detangle himself from the other man’s embrace in apologetic reverence.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldat be swaying shumeone else’s sname…”

His blurry eyes looked at the outline of the other man’s and he pouted. He blinked trying to get rid of the fogginess but it only made his equilibrium off. He stumbled on the uneven ground, his usual genteel and elegant visage nowhere to be found.

He was about to face plant when he heard a long sigh and an arm wrap around his waist. In an instant, he was being supported under his arms, a lean body coming to his side and the smell of fresh laundry pervading his nostrils.

He sniffed.

He couldn’t help it.

“Let me help you,”

Lan Xichen heard a clean and distinct voice. It led no desire for opposition, so all he could do was lean heavily on the other man. He heard a grunt and could guess that his since his stature was somewhat taller than his, the nice man was trying his very best to distribute the weight. He tried to be lighter, using his spiritual qi and rotated it through his body.

The suddenness of his lightness must have caused another discrepancy, for the man almost threw Lan Xichen like they were in a grappling match.

“Stop using your qi, idiot!” the man hissed.

Lan Xichen furrowed his brows and he tilted his neck to try to see the man clearly. The man wasn’t looking in his direction, but he could feel the irritation by his trembling fingertips. Lan Xichen didn’t want to be a burden, so he smiled and softly said.

“I’m okay, really. You can just let me go, I can go find—“

“Shut up, I’m not taking you home. There’s a park bench just 20 meters away from here. Jeez, what kind of person gets drunk at a cemetery?” The young man continued to drag his drunken body to where the aforementioned bench was.

Walking while aiding a drunk person took perseverance and tenacity. He could hear the young man’s breath as he heaved and ho’d why balancing his body. A small layer of sweat built up, and the intoxicating scent of laundry and sunshine came back even stronger. Lan Xichen wanted the walk to last a little longer, so he could keep the scent a little longer. Unfortunately, the 20 meter jaunt came to an end as they found themselves before the bench.

Almost hidden under a large tree, the branches almost reaching the floor like it had attempted to grow back to the ground. Lan Xichen had seen this area before, but had never thought there would be a seat there. His eyesight was becoming clearer and the dizziness of his drunkenness was lessening from the cold wind.

He sighed in happiness when he finally sat down. Now it was too dark to see his savior, but he could make out a few things like his light brown eyes and dark brown hair. It was like a chocolate cupcake, as his hair curled around his hair tickling the back of his neck.

Lan Xichen didn’t know why he was so fixated on that neck, but the contrast from the chocolate brown and the white jade skin was…beautiful.

“Thank you kind sir. If you would allow it, I would like to buy you dinner as an apology.”

He felt the other man stiffen, before releasing him onto the bench, almost prying Lan Xichen’s arm off his shoulders. The scent of sunshine left him, causing the drunken Lan Xichen to feel sad.

“No need for an apology. I don’t want to see you ever again.” The man abruptly tried to walk away. Lan Xichen suddenly felt a panicked emotion. Like instinct, his hands flew until it encircled a slim wrist.

“Wait!” The young man was almost jerked back, but stopped just in time. He glared at the offending hand, and without warning, ripped it out clean. Lan Xichen could feel the emptiness, and the loss of something very important. His panicked expression must have caught the man by surprise, since he touched his wrist and defended himself.

“It hurt.”

Lan Xichen felt the loss and emptiness turn to guilt and resignation.

“I’m sorry, sir. Thank you for helping me. I’m not in a right state of mind.” He rubbed his forehead and laughed lightly. The young man looked at him and dropped the arm he was rubbing; his unabashed side eye looked endearing to him. He seemed to hesitate before responding,

“It’s okay. Next time, drink when you are alone or with people who can help you.”

Lan Xichen sadly smiled before replying,

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And with that, the young man left. Lan Xichen watched as the slender man left his side. The aching in his heart intensified, and while absentmindedly patting his chest he thought to himself,

_Why do you make me feel as if I love you?_

.

.

.

Meng Yao gritted his teeth as he left the bench. His irritation was palpable as he surveyed the area as if looking for an intruder. He didn’t feel anything, but then again he was no cultivator. He slowed down and reached Nie Ming’s grave site where an abandoned bouquet of roses were, its soft petals had scattered in the wind. He picked it up and brushed the dirt on the pretty paper he had specifically gotten.

Damn Lan Xichen!

He had specifically waited three years until he could visit Nie Ming’s grave, because after the intial two years, no one really went to visit. Why did he have to bump into him? Why was Lan Xichen here?

Meng Yao tried to breathe steadily, but his thoughts kept whirring in motion. Was Nie Huaisang here as well? Was he going to kill him too?

Meng Yao squatted next to Nie Ming’s grave and gave a gently put the bouquet on the pedestal next to the jar of Emperor’s Smile. He patted the clean grave and gave a huff.

This was the fifth reincarnation of Nie Mingjue that he had gone to.

Meng Yao had been reincarnating non-stop for the past thousands of years. He always died young. He never lived past 30. In his last life, Meng Yao was a model and Nie Ming had been his temporary bodyguard.

He was very surprised to see that man, and almost fired him, adamantly refusing his help. But when he was almost killed in a studio accident, he had temporarily put his anxieties on hold in favor for a little bit more time of life. But eventually, Nie Ming stopped being a bodyguard and Meng Yao died from a stalker fan, his body ripped to pieces and flushed down the toilet.

Meng Yao pressed the wrist that Lan Xichen had held. He had anxiously tried to hide it, and it apparently succeeded. He looked down to see the oh so familiar three moles on his wrist.

Three Calamity Marks.

He had never survived after two. The reason he kept reincarnating, the reason he always died young was because these three calamity marks always showed up. Every reincarnation he had ever had, he had them.

The first one was life threatening, but could be avoided.

The second one was life threatening, and cannot be avoided.

The third one was life threatening, and he always…always died.

The first few reincarnations, he had attempted to live past one. He tried to cultivate, but like a glass with no water, he was useless in cultivating.

He died while drowning even though he was a superb swimmer. A sudden case of the cramps.

He died when his bombing bunker unexpectedly fell apart.

He died while running away from wolves…in the desert.

The list went on and on.

He never lived past the third calamity.

And he knew that he could stop the reincarnations, if he just survived until the last mole was gone.

And finding Lan Xichen was definitely not a good sign. Lan Xichen was connected to so many of his horrible memories of his past. Not to mention that if he was still walking around, he was either a God dropping in for a visit, or an immortal who up till now, he hasn’t seen. He was not alone. Who knows who else was on and about. Meng Yao wanted no part in that. He had narrowly escaped being found out by Nie Huaisang, and the younger brother Hanguang Jun.

Meng Yao had no choice but to lay low. His last life, he was a small third rate model. Not even on buses or advertisements. He did group shots of clothing ads. He thought he could live comfortably in that life. But obviously not, since that bastard fan found him.

Almost immediately after he was killed, he woke up in the body of a child once again. His parents were druggies, and he grew up in an unstable household. He still had his good looks and was sold by his parents to some unsavory people. He eventually escaped using his past experience of dealing with that stalker and opened up a small bookstore in the small town in the Gusu Lan Sect.

It was a temporary place of solitude and he had lived here for the past five years. He found Nie Ming’s obituary in the newspapers three years ago, and decided to visit on the third anniversary.

No one would know.

But…unexpectedly…someone did.

The vision of Lan Xichen entered his mind, and Meng Yao pinched the bridge of his nose. A face he never wanted to see again, but a face he somehow missed terribly. What irony.

But he didn’t deserve to feel that way.

He never earned that right.

The niggling feeling of regret resurfaced to the forefront. The scheming bastard Jin Guangyao, who killed his sworn brother, married his sister and devised a plan to blame everything on the Yiling Patriarch.

He was that no longer.

But no one would let him stop forgetting it.

There was no such thing as ‘redemption’ in his vocabulary.

Honestly, he wanted to survive the three calamities, just so that he would stop reincarnating. He wanted…to finally rest.

Meng Yao sighed heavily, the weight of his problems escalating as his thought process went deeper and deeper.

As the wind blew on the small hill, Meng Yao sat. His shoulders were hunched as he tried to fight the biting wind, but ultimately he had to leave. Adjusting the bouquet, he walked back down the lonely path until he reached his home, still deep in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess what Lan Xichen's kink is?  
> *sniff*


	4. Notice

I'm sorry everyone, this series will go on a hiatus until further notice. I'm taking care of my mental health and personal issues. I can't juggle two projects at once. So, I will come back to this story when Im in a better place. Thanks for ur love everyone!


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